MANCHILD: But “darling,” you’ve destroyed me! My face is a graveyard of tears! Look at my “teats”! [Makes “teat-tents” with his pincers on his t-shirt, which depicts, whatever, how about the image above]

BUCEPHELA: Would you like me to be your lover, or your boss?

MC: What about… my “editor”?

B: You’d like that? I don’t think you’d like that. The first thing I’d do as your editor…

[MC is weeping and crumples into a cross-legged slouch on the floor. The dog comes over and sniffs, licks his face]

MC [pushing away the pup]: No, Bitch-Bitch, no — off — down — — Oh…

BUCEPHELA: …first thing I’d do is make you live in a railroad-style apartment with at least four other people your age. No more of this solitary forcefeeding you do in your dank little stankhole. Living with other people would make you more accountable… or at least it’d make you feel your near-total absence of dignity more acutely.

MC [weeping]: Oh, a boo, a boo hoo hoo…

BUCEPHELA: Item of business number two as your editrix would be to delete everything and have you start over.

MC: Delete… everything? Even my “Pumby-Wumby”?

B: Especially your Pumby-Wumby.

MC: But the “Pee-Dubb” is my greatest work! BlogFace Magazine called it “similar to interesting things I’ve read”! I thought you liked it! Once I heard you whistling the song from the Angels /group therapy scene: [Singing] “Oh, Angels, Lean your heads together / confer like drunks roving home / shove a starfish up the ass / of the ocean / a volcano fulla bones…”